


Least of My Kind

by BairnSidhe, Caiti (Caitriona_3), GalahadsGurl



Series: The Cahill Project [26]
Category: Beauty and the Beast (TV 2012), Grimm (TV)
Genre: Do not piss off the Grimms, Gen, Non-graphic retribution for said violence, Songfic, Violence to a teen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-02
Updated: 2016-09-02
Packaged: 2018-08-12 11:47:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 992
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7933459
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BairnSidhe/pseuds/BairnSidhe, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Caitriona_3/pseuds/Caiti, https://archiveofourown.org/users/GalahadsGurl/pseuds/GalahadsGurl
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Hurt and captured by Muirfield, Dacia waits for her pack to come get her.  Because, honestly?  Muirfield should have known her family was scarier than they could handle, they could barely handle Dacia.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Least of My Kind

**Author's Note:**

> This is a bit of a departure from my solo gift work for The Cahill Project, which have mostly been either vague about timeline or focused on one event in cannon for The Cahill Project's story line. Also, co-authoring! So happy to play in the sandbox with the cool kids! --BairnSidhe

**Covered in dirt and mud, aching and spitting blood,  
Cursing, you stir to rise and groan.**

Dacia pulled herself up slowly against a concrete wall, the sharp tang and salt of blood in her mouth.  Hers, her attackers, she didn’t know.  She should have spotted the trap, it was so perfectly baited, large men kicking at a smaller one, one who reminded her of Rene.  Damn.  

_Take stock_ a voice in her head that sounded like Will told her.  _Hyu are never alone, meine Enkelin_ said a voice she wanted to think of as her Opa.  But she **was** alone.  But not, she thought, unarmed.  She twisted a charm on her bracelet.  Uncle Jason had given it to her after Vincent…after.  When she couldn’t sleep.  So they could track her if she ran away after a scent again.  Or, so they could find her.

**Muffled in yet-to-come mutters a battle drum  
Werewolves don't usually walk alone.**

She smiled as she leaned her head back, eyes closed.  She was in no state to woge after the darts . . . and the gas . . . and the shock sticks . . . not to mention the beating itself.  But she was not alone; never again would she be _truly alone_. She had a pack.

She followed orders, took stock. She had her mind, one hidden knife and her pack. Two strong weapons and a decent distraction. She would manage. 

  A man in formal shoes came in; she could hear the steps.  He smelled like cologne that probably cost too much, very synthetic.

“You would get better treatment if you didn’t keep trying to kill my men,” he said, like he was threatening to withhold desert until her meat was gone.  His voice was also very synthetic.  Not mechanical, just fake

**Think on the battle-cost; this time the wolf has lost  
Beaten and broken and blind.**

“You would get to live longer if you didn’t touch a wolf with a pack,” she said back, mimicking him.  “Oops, too late.  You’re kinda screwed.”

He snarled and Dacia bit back a laugh.  She didn’t want to motivate him to kill her, but that was a pathetic attempt.  She couldn’t do a full woge, but she turned burning eyes in his direction and let them flash red.

“ _Vati_ will not be happy with you.”

**Better beware, my lord; better prepare, my lord;  
I was the least of my kind.**

“Vincent was a strong soldier . . . to be able to survive when so many did not.  Imagine my surprise when I saw he had a daughter.  He must have gotten to your mother as soon as he ran.  You’re what, fifteen?”

Dacia saw no reason to answer or to deny his belief Vincent was her father by blood.  She waited, eyes thankfully closed again.  She heard him step forward. _A little more, one more step, yes!_  She slipped the quite possibly illegal switchblade from her boot and struck his legs.  She smelled the blood.  Even if they moved her by the time _Vati_ got here, he’d know the scent.

**Prying my switchblade cold out of my fingers' hold,  
Pause to take stock, reflect, and rue.**

The man shocked her again, a taser’s leads biting her skin a moment before the world was pain.  She panted as she recovered and he took her knife.  She spat at his hand, her blood marking him.  Yes, _Vati_ and _Dyadya_ and all the pack would kill him now.  She laughed at the idea, her entire terrifying family surrounding a small man in a suit, pacing and circling him like wolves.  She couldn't see what he looked like, so instead she blended together all the men who had ever hurt her, and then thought of her pack ripping him apart.  Her laugh grew.

**Look on the damage done here by a single one;  
What do you think a full pack will do?**

“What’s so funny?” he demanded.  Well, he asked, and it’s rude not to answer a man’s final question.

“How many men did I kill?  Five?  Ten?  More?  I’m a kid, a _cub_.  You have no idea what a full grown beast like me can do.  And you’ve just succeeded in pissing off my whole family.  My Aunts, my Uncles, my _Vati_ , my _Opa_ ; any of them could do what I did ten times better _alone_. But you?” she laughed.  “You’re getting the full pack, you poor sap.  I could almost feel sorry for you.  Almost.”

**Careless I came by chance, joining in battle's dance  
Slain in a fight I could not win.**

“You little bitch.  We can take your precious _Vati_ ,” he spat the word.  “Use you to keep him in line while we fix you up all nice and deadly and loyal -”  

Dacia laughed again. “You have me mistaken for _Tetya_.  She’s the nice, deadly, and loyal one.”

“That means Auntie, doesn’t it?” he said with derision.  “I’m not afraid of a little girl or her Auntie.”

“Are you afraid of snakes?” Dacia asked him.  He didn’t answer.  “ _Tetya_ is what I call the _Gadyuka_ , the assassin codenamed Viper.  And she will NOT be happy that you made me late to dinner.”

**Far-off a wolf pack hears; heads turn, with pricking ears.  
Thought you, my lord, that I had no kin?**

Jason Grimm had caught the signal at once, and it hadn’t moved.  A force was assembled and dispatched, breaching the compound just as Dacia asked her question about snakes.  She heard them, heard them fight . . . could smell when they killed the synthetic man.  Then _Vati_ was washing her eyes with something to neutralize the pepper spray, and slippery warm fingers were checking her wounds.

Yeah, she pondered later, that guy was an idiot.  She might not be an assassin or super soldier or even legal to vote, but she wasn’t weak.  Compared to her family she could look like the least, but the strength of the wolf was the Pack.  And she had a freaking awesome pack.


End file.
